Write It Down

Jack Barakat has never been a man to openly discuss his feelings. He wakes up, goes to work, comes home, goes to sleep. Start over. The end.
He's never been close with anyone. Not his family, his past classmates, nor his coworkers.

He's never had a "best friend." He's never had a girlfriend.
He wouldn't tell you he wanted any of those things, either. He's always been happy enough sitting home alone with his laptop. Reading, writing. Reading some more. Writing some more.

The highlight of his day?
The morning newspaper.

Sure, he didn't enjoy social interaction, but he sure did enjoy reading about it. His favorite portion of the paper? The "Ask Morrie" column. Every week, people write in with life questions. Wondering why things are, or why they aren't. And this "Morrie" character gives them the perfect answers.

The most intellectual, inspiring answers.

Jack always dreamed of what it would be like to have Morrie answer one of his letters. But, up until now, he had been too scared to actually write to this person.

At this moment, he sat down and wrote a letter.
A letter he never expected to get any recognition. A letter he never expected to get a response to.

---

Alex Gaskarth has always been a man of character. As a highly regarded graduate of Northwestern University with a major in investigative journalism, he has always dreamed of "the story."

You know the one he's talking about. The one that makes the readers skin crawl. The one that leaves them wanting more and more as the anticipation grows for his next article.

He wanted to be the one every one came to for "the scoop" on anything and everything.

In college, he was that person. Hell, even in high school he had a few dedicated readers in the student body. But, the second he graduated, it was a dog-eat-dog world.

He fought for everything he has now, which isn't much.

Hell, to some, what he does isn't even considered yellow journalism. As every week, confused and helpless readers write in to his anonymous "Ask Morrie" column of the daily paper, his life as a respectable investigative reporter slips away at his fingertips.

He just needs that chance.
He just was begging for the chance to prove to the world that his long years of studying and writing and giving answers has not been wasted, that he does know what he's talking about.

He does.

Its about 10 o'clock at night and he's on his 5th and final letter.
He was tired of this job, yes, but everyday he didn't care how late he had to stay up, he was going to do it right. He was going to write the best advice column the paper had ever seen. It was the only way he could get noticed.

He picked up this last letter, the only one to have a return address, and began reading.

Dear Morrie,
Hi. I'm Jack Barakat. Every day I wake up at exactly 7 a.m. to read the morning paper. I sit down in my kitchen with a large mug of straight black coffee, and turn to the "Ask Morrie" section. I read through up to 5 letters a day, each one with a different issue. Each one with its own personality.
Some people may say that what you do everyday is not real journalism, but I disagree. I think it takes a real journalist to be able to not only answer these questions with their brain, but with their heart as well. I know that every single one of your readers feel the way that I do. I know that every single one of them find just as much security and happiness in your column. How am I so confident in this? I don't even know the answer to that. I just know that there is something about your words that give an old shut in like me a bit of hope.
I know you may never read this, and I don't even know who you are, but I just wanted to thank you. I could walk by you in the street everyday on my way to work and never know it, but I do know this, you are the finest writer Baltimore, Maryland has ever seen. Just take a deep breath and remember. Remember how it feels to be at the bottom, because some day, you'll be staring at people like me from the very top.
With most sincerety,
Jack Bassam Barakat.

Alex put the letter down.

And for the first time ever, he picked up a pen and started to personally reply to this one reader.

Because, this one reader, with this one letter, started a fire in his heart that he lost a long time ago.

With those few words, Jack Barakat returned to Alex, a complete stranger, his passion.

His will.

He brought back, with that one letter, something that took his bosses and coworkers years to tear down. His dignity.

Alex Gaskarth, the writer, was back in Baltimore.